Chapter Two
E asy
Six Weeks Later
This has to be a joke. I pull off my ball cap and scratch at the back of my head. No way am I seeing what I think I am. I look over my shoulder, waiting for the cameras to pop out and one of the boys to shout that I’m being punked, but it never comes.
Looking back at the spectacle before me, I’m at a serious loss for words.
Perched like a king on a throne in the middle of an Olympic-sized swimming pool sits a red Ford Ranger spinning around on a rotating platform.
It’s so goddamn preposterous that it’s drawn a pretty impressive crowd of onlookers who are probably wondering the same thing I am.
How the hell am I going to get this truck off of there when it’s surrounded by water?
At this point, their guess is as good as mine. The only thing I know for sure is that if someone managed to get it in there, there has to be a way to get it out.
Wrath steps up beside me to get a better look, and I can tell he’s trying not to laugh.
“Got any ideas?”
“Call the city and tell them you need someone from the parks department to come down and drain the pool. Once that’s done, you can back the wrecker down the steps, lift the flatbed right up to the platform, hook the undercarriage, and pull that little fucker right onto the rig.”
My brows shoot up. I’m blown away he’s worked it out so quickly. “How the hell did you come up with that so fast?”
Wrath finally loses his control and laughs. “This ain’t the first time college kids have put a vehicle in this pool.”
“Fucking frat boys.” Shaking my head, I pull out my phone, place the call to the city, and make the request to have the pool drained. The lady on the other line just laughs, already knowing the reason why. After listening to the clickety-clack from her keyboard, she warns, “The parks department moves at their own pace. I wouldn’t expect a quick response.”
Great.
“Thanks,” I grumble, ending the call.
That’s good enough for me; I have other things I want to do on my day off. Like ripping out the carpet in the investment property I just bought.
I’ve been eyeballing the house next door to mine for a while, wondering if anyone was going to do something about the eyesore. It’s been abandoned and neglected. The landscaping is overgrown, the roof sagging, and unfortunately, now that it’s mine, I’m discovering there are a whole host of other issues.
“I’m heading home, brother.” Wrath calls over his shoulder with a two-finger salute.
I nod, deciding to head out too and salvage what’s left of my day off.
Lexi
“Tell me again why you couldn’t stay in Kentucky.” Mara knows why I have to move. Staying in Kentucky isn’t an option if I want to get away from John once and for all.
After leaving the hotel bar some weeks ago, he stayed away to give me time to move out.
He didn’t put up a fight at all, which I’m thankful for.
I thought things were done; over.
Boy, was I wrong. John was just boarding the crazy train and headed my way at full steam.
It started out with him blowing up my phone, begging me to hear him out. He claimed the few days apart gave him time to think, and he realized he was making a huge mistake, which led to his persistent pursuit in trying to “fix” things.
I tried everything I knew to get him to see that the damage is done, and if he gave it some time, he’d see it’s all for the best.
I thought I’d gotten through to him, but once again, I was wrong. John has now become obsessed.
He was showing up at my door in the middle of the night, shouting to be let inside so we could talk things out face to face.
When I refused to see him, he started showing up at the animal clinic where I worked.
The last straw and my breaking point was when he cornered me in the supermarket parking lot and pinned me against my car.
In that moment, as he stared down at me with bloodshot eyes and wrapped his hand around my throat, I saw that he was officially unhinged.
By the grace of the gods, a police cruiser pulled into the lot, and John took off.
For the next month, I managed to dodge him while I made plans to relocate out of state.
“Lexi?”
“I told you. Miami is a fresh start.” And far away from Kentucky.
“But why so far away?”
“You were there!” I laugh. I didn’t have the first clue where I wanted to go; each place was just as appealing as the next—New York, California, Las Vegas—the list went on and on.
Ultimately, I decided to leave it to fate. So, I taped a map on the wall, grabbed a dart, and let it fly.
Miami, Florida.
With the destination decided and out of the way, I searched the internet for a place to stay, rented it sight unseen—obviously—packed everything I owned into my car, and hit the road.
“I was, but I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that you’re really gone,” Mara says through the speaker.
“You can come visit anytime you want,” I remind my friend as Siri instructs me to take a left.
I’m not supposed to be in Miami for several more days, but I’m anxious to put the miles between me and John.
Continue one-eighth of a mile to your destination.
“It’s not the same.” It isn’t, but there isn’t anything I can do about that.
“I know, but we can FaceTime.”
I hear her moving around, probably after one of her kids. “You’ve got an answer for everything.”
I roll my eyes. “It’s going to be fine. You’ll see,” I promise her as I pull up to the curb in front of my rental. “What the hell?” Sitting in the driveway of my new home is a big green dumpster with what looks like old carpet sticking out of the top. “I think I’m here, Mara. I gotta go.”
“Okay, honey. Call me later this week so I know you got settled into your new place.”
My eyes sweep across the lawn to the house next door. “You know I will. Bye, girl.”
“Bye.” Mara ends the call.
The second I cut the motor, the sound I’ve been waiting to hear wraps around me like a blanket. My eyes close as the sound of the ocean brings with it the first rays of hope in weeks.
This is my fresh start.
Opening my eyes, I climb out of my car, nudging the door closed behind me. Excitement surges through me as I round the hood of my car.
As I approach the blue bungalow, my excitement quickly dissipates, and my lips turn down. This place is a shithole. It looks nothing like the photos I was shown online.
An uneasy feeling starts to creep in. I remember the guy I spoke to saying the place was move-in ready. The carpet sticking out of the big green bin in the driveway says something else.
Shit.
I’ve already paid the deposit and first and last month’s rent. Hell, I barely have two nickels to rub together.
“Don’t jump to conclusions,” I whisper to myself. It’s pointless to get worked up until I know for sure what I’m dealing with. For all I know, they haven’t had a chance to haul the container away. That’s just as plausible as something awful.
“You just need to get the key and find out for yourself,” I say the words out loud. “White two-story with a red door and blue shutters.” I look at the house to the left and then to the right. “Shit. They’re both white two stories with red doors and blue shutters.”
I look back to the house on the right with the motorcycle under the carport, then to the one with the cute garden gnomes—and my eyes widen. “Are those penis-shaped mushrooms?” They sure as hell are.
A laugh bursts free before I can stop it, and, embarrassingly, I snort loudly, the sound echoing off the surrounding houses.
Is that the neighbor I’m supposed to grab the key from? I shake my head, continuing to giggle.
Lord help me, I really want to meet whoever lives there. I can already tell they’re my kind of people. I’m just about to move that way when a light at the other house comes on, reminding me of the hour.
Moving in that direction, I decide that’s probably the better place to start.
No need in waking up anyone I don’t have to.